
m 



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LIBRARY of CONteriSaS, 
Two Capies Keceivv^c! 

Di£ 9 1907 

Copyrignt tntr> 
I KXc, No. 



'j CLASS/!' KXc 



Club Affairs Company 

333 Fourth Avenue 

New York 



All Rights Reserved 



NOTE. 

The brief narrative of the introduction of 
Christianit)' into ancient Britain, by Roman 
missionaries, a century and a half after its in- 
vasion by the Saxons, presents a scene of solemn 
and pathetic interest lin the history of the 
Saxon race. 

The story, in word and incident, as em- 
balmed in the early Chronicle, is here the same, 
save the light metrical garment in which it is 
clad. 



A hundred years and fift.v more 

The Saxon horde roamed Briton's shore. 

When, lo, the priest-gfarbed Roman came 

With silver cross on liig^h, aflame, 

Hung: with picture of that Christ 

The world rejected and despised! 

Not with trumpet sound, or drum — 

In procession, grave, they come, 

Chanting their meek litanies 

With the rubric of sweet praise. 

Then the High Priest, — Northumbrian he. 

Of steadfast mien and stern decree. 







In presence of the nobles all 
Slow spake: "The old gods down must fall! 
For, these our gods, what have they done? 
With voice and hand still as the stone, 
Helpless they stare and mock each one!" 
And bowed with shame to tell at last: 
"In all the time that now was past 
He knew not what he thus adored!" 
The mighty priest they scarce had heard 
Ere he, first among the band. 
Smote the temple, lance in hand, 
And laid their gods low in the sand! 



Wt:^< 



Then met were in assembly grave 
The King and Priests and Earls brave. 
And at the High Priest's side was seen 
In speech, a chief of gentle mien. 
"O King, belike 'tis not forgot 
In winter time our happy lot : 
Nor yet a sight hath fixed thy gaze. 
Though high the feasters sing thy praise : 
Seated at thy royal board. 
Earls and Thanes unclasp the sword. 
And bearded face of son and sire 
Glows beneath the broad hearth's fire ; 












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The lofty hall is warm; 

Without are rain and snow and storm;" 

Brigfht foams the mead ; the Harper sings 

And touches bravely his harp strings: 

When tremblingly, above it all, 

Darts a swallow across the hall. 

By one door he comes, anon, 

By another swift is gone! 

Yet tho' loud the shout and din, 

Pleasant to him the air within: 

As if charmed each tiny feather. 

He feels not rain nor wintry weather; 






Hut, brief the moment, quick he hies, 
From winter he to winter flies ! 
Such on earth the life of man, — 
One brief moment, scarce a span. 
But what the time which is before. 
And what the time thro' Death's dark door : 
It from this Cross a ligfht doth gleam. 
Shall show our life not all a dream ; 
This Cross and Christ fill they our need, 
Twere well, O King, we gave them heed ! " 






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*=S.r. 



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A thousand years and more have sped 






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Since the Saxon Chief thus said ; 
A thousand years and more of blood, 
Of strife and pain hath Saxon stood ; 
And Saxon yet the Christ doth need, 
For oft his eyes the old g-ods feed ! 
A thousand years and more have gone, 
And, lo, the Cross still beckons on; 
Its silver light hallows each strand, 
And God's High Priests in every land 
With lance of Truth shall smite amain 
Earth's temples dark and idols vain! 




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